Rugrats Grown Up- Skins Edition
by CarterMulligan
Summary: Our Rugrats are now teenagers. Much like UK Drama Series "SKINS", each chapter details the specific events in a different characters life, and how it intertwines with everyone else. Through the years they've struggled with staying together and overcoming their own unique obstacles. Rated T for strong language, mild sexual content, and the use of drugs and alcohol.
1. Dil

It was three o'clock in the afternoon, and Dil was not expecting anyone to be home for two more hours. He lies on his bed staring at the glow stars on his ceiling, inhaling deeply from the blunt he holds between his thumb and index finger. His schoolbag hangs on the back of his computer chair, homework tucked away where he knows he will not remember to look for it once the high hits him. He has been smoking weed for six months now, and no one in the family has noticed yet.

Tommy has band practice and his mother was working late. This morning during breakfast Stu called and let them know his flight from Paris had been delayed a full day because of bad weather conditions. The Reptar robot had finally broken down again after it's last repair fourteen years ago, when the entire family had traveled to France with Stu to make the reparations. That was where Chaz Finster had met Kira Watanabe, and Kimi became part of their little group.

Dil had turned fifteen last Wednesday, and Tommy, being sixteen, wasn't to turn seventeen for another five months. Dil knows that Tommy doesn't smoke, nor does he have sex. Then, neither does Dil, but for different reasons.

The high starts to hit him. The stars are suddenly more complex than they were three seconds ago. Now they mean something. He searches for constellations.

He doesn't know how much time has passed, and forgets how many hits he's taken before he decides to put the blunt away and save the rest for another time. He intends to ration it, because he knows will not be able to get more until next month, when his "special friend" comes back from his prolonged trip to Florida over winter break.

School had started again yesterday, but Blake's grandparents are old and dying so they've decided to stay in Florida for a few extra weeks. That was his name, Blake Tyson. Dil always thought that was a cool name, something a motorcylcle enthusiast would be named, or a rockstar.

Blake was two years older than Dil, and had far more experience with basically everything. He was a junior in high school, so he knew how to drive and he had a job. Blakes parents were wealthy business owners, who let Blake grow and sell his own pot in their basement, but he is sworn to secrecy about it. Dil simply assumes they want their kid to be a successful entrepreneur like them, despite the product of his choosing. It is not yet legal in their state to sell or smoke marijuana. But still, Blake gets good grades, and dates a pretty girl, named Amanda. Dil would never admit to anyone, but he looked up to him greatly.

He also looked up to Tommy, but in a different way. A conflicting way. He looked up to Tommy and his morals, his will to always do right by people...but Dil wanted to live life a little bit harder than everyone else. He wanted to know what it felt like to do wrong, but he's afraid to push the limits too far. So he sticks to smoking weed, and always carries a condom in his wallet, despite how he's never used it.

The front door slams downstairs and Dil is snapped out of his thoughtful haze. He left his window open, so some of the smell had already drifted out, but he knows it is not nearly that easy. He was going to get caught. So he rushes to his feet and shoves his remaining weed into a little baggy, only to be squashed at the back of his sock drawer, where nobody would dare to go. He panics. How would he explain? What would he say? Who was even home? He rushes to grab this schoolwork out of his bag and spreads it out on his bed.

Footsteps come up the stairs, and Dil knows its Tommy. Either of his parents would have gone in the kitchen where the key tree and coat rack were, but he and Tommy come straight upstairs when they get home. Unless it's his mother who only came home to grab something she forgot, in that case-

"What is that smell?" Tommy walks into Dil's room, waving his hand in front of his face, nose scrunched up. Dil looks up from his science textbook, feigning confusion.

"I don't know what-" he starts.

"Are you high?" Tommy gasps. "You're high! Dylan Prescott!"

"Whoa calm down _Mom!" _He stands from his bed and slams his door behind Tommy angrily. "Are you the only one here?" he questions, stern. Tommy crosses his arms and glares down at Dil, who was now only a few inches shorter. He was growing fast, and he was sure to be the same height as Tommy in a few months.

"Yes, band got cancelled," Tommy finally answers after a few seconds of silence.

"Why?" Dil tries to change the subject.

"Jess broke his wrist trying to do a handstand and the ambulance came, he's fine, don't avoid the subject. It smells like shi- crap...in here." Tommy looks down, faintly sniffing the air before going and turning on the fan in the corner of his room, aiming it towards the window. "If Mom and Dad catch you you're dead."

"They're not going to, Dad is halfway around the world and Mom is at work late, she told me to tell you she won't be home until like 10 pm. Gave me 20$ for pizza." Dil grins and holds up the bill, already excited for it; the munchies have him hard right now.

"Oh," Tommy sighs, sitting in Dil's chair and looking absentmindedly at the floor.

"How'd you know? Was it the smell or me?" Dil wonders.

"The smell. You seem fine to me," he shrugs, "I don't really know what high looks like, I just thought it involved a lot of laughing." He takes a deep breath. "Give it to me. You're not doing it anymore."

Rolling his eyes, "yeah right, get your own."

"Dil!"

"You need a hit man, loosen up! I've never seen anyone need a joint more than you. You ought to be thanking me for offering the last of my blunt, bro." Dil reaches into the back of his sock drawere. No matter how much he disapproved, Tommy would never nark on him.

"Don't 'bro' me. Since when does Dil Pickles, my little brother, do _drugs? _Do you know what they can do to you?"

"Make me feel good?"

"It could reduce your concentration, your brain cells are being fried," Tommy growls, waving his hands around angrily.

"See that stack of papers over there?" Dil points to the papers on the desk behind Tommy, lighting the end of the blunt to take another hit, deciding to just smoke the rest with Tommy now. "Biology essay, english essay, and physics essay; all of them due next month-6000 words e_ach._ I finished them all during my last high. I do all my homework while I'm high, and you know I get A's." Dil grins and hands Tommy the blunt. "Wouldn't you reather do it with me than some hot chick?" Dil raises his eyebrows suggestively.

"Shut up," Tommy punches his shoulder, but surprisingly takes the blunt as well. "How am I even supposed to...? What's it like?" Dil grins.

"Take it into your lungs and hold it there. Remember that the more it burns the better the hit it will be."

He watches tentatively as Tommy puts the blunt to his mouth, inhaling a massive hit. He immediately coughs up a cloud of smoke, nearly hacking up a lung. He drops the blunt on the desk and falls to the floor, bent over and coughing like nuts, drool sliding down his cheeks. Dil is laughing hysterically, falling indian style on the floor next to him.

"Great hit, but next time try to hold it in for longer than a second," Dil slaps his back, face red with laughter, Tommy's red with the struggle of breathing.

"Water," is all Tommy rasps.

"Here," Dil hands him his water bottle. Once Tommy has control over himself again Dil hands him the blunt. "Hold it in." Tommy shakes his head.

"That stuff is painful," he protests.

"It'll be worth it. Suck it in deep and don't let it out til I say to."

"That sounded so gay...," Tommy mutters, reluctantly taking the blunt and leaning up against the leg of the desk. Dil holds up the lighter, reheating his weed. This time Tommy doesn't take such a large hit, but large enough. Dil can see he wants to let it go, but he counts a solid five seconds at least before saying, "you can breath out now." Tommy huffs a cloud of smoke and leans his head back, handing Dil the blunt. Dil takes a hit.

"One more hit bro and you should be good."

"Then why are you taking like a million?" Tommy questions, voice rapsy.

"Because I've built up a tolerance. This is your first time. You're going to be a laughing idiot," Dil explains, handing it back to Tommy. "This time, hold it in for ten seconds."

He does, and when Tommy exhales this time, he grins slightly.

Dil leans back against his bedpost. This was good.

They're silent and a few seconds pass, Dil begins thinking, until Tommy shakes Dil out of his post hit haze by giggling.

"Is this real life?" Tommy questions, slightly slurring his words, and laughing again.

Dil smiles.

/

"Pepperoni!" Tommy giggles. "And bacon, I want all the bacon! Tell them if there's no bacon then I'm going to kill their families," Tommy threatens. Dil was ordering their pizza over the phone, since he didn't trust Tommy with outsiders in his current state.

"Alright can I get a large pepperoni and bacon pizza with cheesy sticks and a two liter of Coke?" Dil says into the phone.

"Root beer!" Tommy whispers urgently, poking him in the shoulder. "Dil!"

"Sorry, root beer instead of coke. Yeah, no that's okay. Alright, mhmm... Dylan Pickles. Cash. Okay, see you soon." He hangs up and the pandora he was playing on his phone immediately turns back on. They're listening to The Black Keys radio.

"Did...did you get bacon and root beer?" Tommy questions quietly.

"You heard me of course I did."

"I heard you I'm just double checking, okay? Dang, Dylan, dang." Tommy rolls over onto his back. Dil was on his bed, his head hanging off the edge, and Tommy on the floor. They were both now looking up at the stars on his ceiling, not saying anything except for the occasional giggle from Tommy about nothing in particular.

Had he corrupted his brother?

"Do you hate me?" Dil says after a few minutes of silence.

"Why would I hate you?" He's surprised that Tommy was able to say a full sentence without having a fit of laughter.

"Because I made you smoke week. You're a straight A student who has morals and shit, and I made you smoke."

"First of all, you have straight A's too...whether you want to admit it or not." It was true, Dil did not brag about his good grades. "And second...wait what was I gonna say..." Tommy trails off. "Oh right, yeah, I don't hate you, because you're my brother no matter what okay?" Tommy sighs. "I sound like an idiot right now I can't think straight. Does that ever change?"

"Yeah, the more you smoke the more control you have over your thoughts."

"I like it though. I can finally escape from myself and just not care anymore. I'm so tired of caring, Dil, sometimes I just want to take a break from who I am and be someone else." Tommy isn't laughing anymore.

"Me too," Dil whispers. "It's hard keeping up with expectations..."

They're quiet for a few moments more before Dil speaks again.

"For the record, I like who you are." Tommy grins.

"You too man. Thanks for this."


	2. Phil and Lil

Second period starts in five minutes, and Lil stands by her locker, Phil chattering away to her, his words going in one ear and out the other. She's too busy staring across the hallway at Austin Mulligan, a boy she's been infatuated with since the 7th grade. Her feelings for the boy have all but faded, in fact have grown stronger, despite how they're now juniors in high school. Austin catches her gaze and smiles back at her.

"Lillian!" Phil growls. "Quit staring at that jockstrap and tell me which one is longer." Lil looks at Phil in confusion and moderate disgust, not being able to imagine what he could possibly be talking about.

He was holding up two worms about five inches from her face.

"Get those things away from me," she squeals, knowing very well that Austin was walking by. As soon as he was around the corner she sighs and rubs her face with her hands. Walking past Phil, she points to the left worm.

"That one," she mutters.

" _"Get those things away from me"_? Seriously Lil?" Phil seems appalled when he follows her as she rushes away, handing her the bigger one which she takes from him easily.

"Austin wouldn't like me if he knew that I wasn't freaked out by worms. What normal girl isn't?" she talks more to herself than to Phil, absentmindedly fiddling with the larger worm as it squirms around her palm, nearly falling to its death.

"Nobody is normal. And besides Austin would think it's cool that you're not afraid of that stuff," Phil mutters. She punches him in the shoulder, a little too roughly, but that was just Lil.

"What would you know?" She turns into their class, hungry already for lunch and jealous of the middle schoolers who get to eat before they do.

"I'm a guy, I know. But whatever, he doesn't deserve you anyway." Phil takes the seat next to her, shoving the worms back into the container he carried them in.

This is how it's been, Phil always following Lil around, and Lil trying her hardest to learn to be independent. It was just hard, because she and her brother have so much in common. They're best friends, how can she have her own life when he's such a big part of it? Moving into her own room was hard enough, but still the best decision she's ever made.

"Why do you hate him so much?" She asks while she opens her binder, pulling out her homework. Phil pulls out his; it's blank. As he begins to copy down her answers he scratches his head, hesitating whether or not to tell her the full story.

"He's just a sicko, trust me Lil you don't wanna get involved."

"Oh I want to get involved," she combats, "I want to be with him. I want him, I want him, I want him!"

"Shut up! He's not right!" Phil sighs, deciding it was best to rip the band aid off. He needs to protect his sister, right?

"What, tell me," she demands, knowing that Phil knows something. He looks at her, and she wonders if that's really pity in his eyes.

"Fine," he gives Lil back her homework. "He's on the sex offender list."

"He probably just had to pee in a park or something and got caught," Lil shrugs, brushing off any doubt she may have had.

"He raped Meagan Dorris," Phil blurts, smacking Lils hand hard. Too hard, all he had wanted was to get her attention, but the way she jerked her arm back let him know that he'd been too rough. He continues, but gentler, because the look in her eyes was very startled.

"You mean Gerrit's little sister?" she interrupted before he could finish. Gerrit Dorris was Phi3ls closest male friend, the only friend he's ever made outside of his childhood group consisting of Chuckie, Tommy, Dil, Lil, and Kimi.

"Yeah," he responds, shrugging. "So don't date him." Lil is quiet for a moment before looking down at her paper, twirling her pencil between her fingers. More people are flooding into the room so their voices are lowered.

"It's most likely a misunderstanding, they dated. Her parents probably got pissed when they realized that he's 18 and a senior, and their daughter is a 15 year old freshman. Parent's can get you on the sex offender list for that kind of stuff, even if it was consensual," Lil explains. Phil doesn't have time to interrupt before the teacher enters the room and demands their homework immediately.

"Lil, I'm serious, this guy is a creep," Phil whispers, handing their teacher his homework. She eyes him suspiciously, knowing that his answers were exactly the same as Lil's.

"I'll be the judge of that," Lil replies stubbornly. "I have advanced Algebra with him next hour, I'll ask him out then." Phil rolls his eyes and leans back against his chair, genuinely pissed.

"Whatever," he stands up angrily and slams his chair against the desk, grabbing his bag and papers before stomping out the door, leaving Lil speechless and bewildered, subject of wrath and questions coming from their now upset teacher. This, however, is not the first time Phil has done something like this. He has stormed out of many a class and left Lil to pick up the pieces. He has never had control over his anger before, so she has stopped taking him seriously.

If Austin had raped Meagan, she would have heard about it. There's always another side to the story, so she decides to follow through with her plan to ask him out.

**In algebra class**

Lil eagerly sits in her seat, waiting for Austin to come into the room. He doesn't usually show up until class is just about to start. She looks down at her textbook, trying to keep her calm. She was still angered about Phil overreacting earlier. She suspects he's gone home, to the garage where he can punch his punching bag until his knuckles bleed.

"You're not really afraid of worms, are you?" Austin asks casually as he sits next to her.

"W-what?" she stutters, mentally scolding herself for not keeping her cool. It's not like this was the first time they'd ever spoken. In fact, they'd done a project together last semester. He'd even stayed after school with her once to work on it with her, granted they were accompanied by two other classmates. But she could tell by the way he smiled at her sometimes, she was not the only one interested. He just doesn't know how long she's wanted him. He only noticed her earlier this year...she has been...well...

"You're smart enough to be in a senior class despite how you're a junior," he shrugs, "which means you must be smart enough to know worms can't hurt you." He grins that grin that makes Lil's insides melt into a big bowl of honey. He wasn't all too smart though, she could tell he'd taken some time to think of this approach.

"So, because I'm in an advanced algebra class, that makes me educated about worms?" She raises her eyebrow, regaining her cool. _Yeah, I got this, _she thinks. He turns pink and just sort of chuckles. A few silent moments pass before he shrugs.

"I guess you got me there," he admits. _Oh, it's okay Austin, you sexy thang._

"But you're right," she closes her book and breaks eye contact, "they don't scare me. Is that weird?"

"Nah dude, it's cool. I like a girl who can get a little dirty sometimes," he murmurs, and Lil snaps her eyes back to his, who are looking at her mischievously. She's left with her mouth hanging open, and before she can think of something else to say, their teacher calls for their attention. Austin simply winks at her and turns towards the front of the class. He whispers, "might want to close your mouth, before bugs nest in there."

Lil closes her mouth and turns towards the front, embarrassed.

A few minutes pass and they're well into their lecture before Austin nudges his notebook over to her, and she sees words scribbled down in sloppy handwriting.

_'lemme take you out tonight'_

She blushes. Apparently she won't have to make the first move after all.

**At home**

Phil sits in his dirty old recliner in the garage, uneasy. Lil had come home proudly announcing to their parents that Austin was taking her to the movies. He tried convincing them that Austin was a bad dude, but Lil was ready for this attack.

"He told me what happened, it was just like I thought; her parents found out and pressed charges. It was consensual," Lil had explained. They're all in the kitchen while Betty prepares dinner.

"I still don't like the idea of you going with an older boy, especially one who has sex with girls..." her father, Howard, muttered nervously.

"Ah nonsense! Let the girl grow up, she ain't a tot anymore! She's smart enough to say no, right honey?" Betty responded with her trademark enthusiasm. Her side of the parenting team has always been more liberal than her hesitant husbands.

"Right," Lil explained. "Not ready for sex anyway." Howard sighs, exasperated.

"Didn't need to know that! I'm glad, though." He set his newspaper down on the table and leaves the room, waving dismissively at the air, knowing he can't win an argument against Betty. Lil and her mother just smiled at each other, while Phil stood steaming in the doorway.

He had to go have another round with the punching bag. He loves his sister too much to watch her get hurt like Meagan did. And no, maybe Meagan never talked about it, but not because it was consensual. He stands by his belief that Austin was not right. So all day he has been planning to, somehow, get in the way of Austin having his way with his sister. This date was just the perfect way for Phil to get that.

He waits a solid fifteen minutes after Austin picks her up in his truck, then he heads out the front door and begins to unlock his bike from the rack in the garage.

"Uh uh mister, not so fast." Betty stands in the doorway. Phil is surprised she can even see him, the dark winter night already setting in. There were stars littered across the sky.

"Whaaaat Mom," he complains.

"Your school called," is all she says. "Get back inside. You're grounded for a week."

"Mom! This is so unfair!" he argues, knowing it was no use.

"Sucks for you!" she sticks out her tongue and closes the door. Phil, only more pissed, leaves his bike on the side of the house and goes back up to his room to wait for the right moment.

It's a Friday, so their parents weren't expecting Lil back so soon. He waits until they're in bed, 10 o'clock, only fifteen minutes after their movie was supposed to end.

He locks his door before slipping on his hoodie, quietly sliding open his window and climbing down the piping on the side of his house. He drops the remaining seven feet underneath his two story window and lands on the balls of his feet next to his bike. Phil has snuck out a good number of times to smoke weed with Dil, something nobody else knows, not even Lil. He knows how to get away without being noticed.

He rides fast, only moderate amounts of snow in his way, nothing he swerve around. It takes him a solid ten minutes to get to the movie theater. When he gets there, he locks up his bike and peers through the glass doors, the smell of popcorn wafting through the cracks.

After a few minutes he finally sees Lil and Austin sitting at a table together, talking and laughing. _Lil, don't fall too hard..._

He wants for his sister to be happy, but not with this guy...he can't let it happen. It's just a gut feeling, an awful sense of foreboding. He can't shake it. So he lights a cigarette and waits.

He sits on the sidewalk by the door and watches them from at least a fifty foot distance for another few mintues, and that's when he starts to feel the chill of the night. It may only be early winter, but it was still freezing. An oversized hoodie was not enough to keep him warm, but it was too late now. Lil and Austin were his main priority.

Movement. They were getting up. Time to move. They head towards the west wing exit, so Phil heads that way, leaving his bike chained by the front door. He leans against he wall by the bushes, out of sight from the door, but at the right angle to see them as they head towards the parking lot.

Sure, he felt a little creepy stalking them like this, but he owes it to himself and his sister to see if his suspicions were correct. But, for her sake, he hopes they aren't.

Phil jams his cigarette butt into the wall he leans against, watching Austin push his sister against his truck as they share their first kiss. He looks away, not able to see this. It was hard for him to handle, thinking of her that way. She was Lil, not this girl kissing this boy...

He looks up at the sky, at the stars, thinking about his life, and what he was doing here. It's as if his best friend was slowly slipping from his fingers.

But it was different when he did things, like when he would smoke with Dil, or when he kisses girls. Everything Lil does is a completely different story, and he doesn't know why. Maybe she was right; maybe he had to let go. She has to grow up on her own, doesn't she?

He decides to leave, stepping out of the bushes and heading back towards his bike.

Glancing back at them one more time he can barely see them except for the street lamp illuminating the lot. After squinting he can see Austins hand down Lils skirt as he kisses her neck. Phil growls and takes a step towards them, unsure whether or not to break it up. Upon further inspection, he can see Lil try to push him off, but Austin doesn't let go.

Phil breaks out into a sprint, nearly slipping on the ice but making it into their area soon enough to hear Lil whimper, "Austin, I said stop!"

He grabs Austin by the collar and yanks him to the ground, straddling and punching him hard in the face a good three times before standing up and pulling close his startled sister, who wraps her arms around Phil tightly.

"You so much as look at her again and I'll shove my foot so far up your ass you'll be tasting dirt," Phil growls. He spits on the ground next to a bleeding Austin, who wipes his nose and looks up at the both of them, shocked.

He wraps his arm around her and leads her back to his bike, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

"Phil," she whispers.

"Don't, I don't need to hear it," he answers. It was the one time he didn't need to hear her say _I told you so. _It was the only time he didn't want to be right.


	3. Chuckie

**There is a part of this chapter where a song is mentioned, actually two songs, and I highly recommend you listen to them while you read the scenes. It sets the mood. You'll understand if you do it. If you don't at least listen to the first song, listen to the second one, it changes everything.**

**I'd like to hear your thoughts on this chapter, so please take a moment to review it when you're done reading. Let me know what you think of the songs I mention and how it ties into the story. :) Thanks so much, read on. **

Chuckie never stops studying. Even on Christmas, before he goes downstairs to open presents he has to make sure he knows exactly how the civil war started and ended. Tommy hates it, he hates that Chuckie never wants to have fun anymore, he's always been a wet blanket and it's getting so much worse.

Not that there's something wrong with studying, but studying so much that you forget to live, what good does that do you? How can you learn about history and not make any yourself?

They made more history when they were babies; like the time they all got lost in the woods, right after Dil was born. Or the other time they swear they traveled into the future, despite the fact that no one would believe them when they were old enough to talk about what'd happened, how they'd all grown up and somehow gotten into an Emika concert. When Angelica tried to say something about it her parents put her in therapy for months! Finally she just told them she was lying, and they wrote it off as her trying to get attention again.

It only ever stressed Chuckie out when the rest of the group got into situations like that, but somehow he felt responsible for it. Like was the voice of reason and if he just sat out one adventure they'd all end up as dinosaur food, despite the fact that dinosaurs are extinct. They'd find a way to bring them back and then get themselves eaten!

"Finster, get your butt down here!" Angelica's shrill voice sounded from the bottom of the stairs. Chuckie huffed and stood from his chair, leaving his chemistry book open. He slumped into the hallway and looked down the stairs at the evil blond.

"Whaaaat Angelica?" he moans.

"Did you do my biology paper or not?" she whines, stomping her foot and placing her hands on her hips.

"I never said I would do it!" Chuckie retorts.

"But I distinctly remember saying that if you didn't do it, I would personally tighten your braces," she crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow.

Chuckie fumes, over her threats. He was tired of being pushed around and walked on his whole life, he's never been more fed up with anything than right now. It was as if all the years of studying and working and saving his friends were catching up with him, and he panicked. He exploded. He let go, and he held on, and he flew off the rails- all at the same time.

"I could give a fuck less about your stupid biology paper. Do it yourself!" He goes back into his room, slamming the door so hard it shook the whole house. Angelica was left speechless at the bottom of the stairs, mouth hanging open so long that her tongue became dry.

But then he had a thought; _If I'm flying off the rails, why not fly as far as I can? _So he goes back into the hallway, where Angelica sits on the steps and looks at her hands, thinking.

"If you ever threaten me, or speak to me in a way that's disrespectful again, I'll make you pay. Same goes for the rest of my friends. I'm done, Angelica, we all are." Chuckie points a finger angrily at her, and she looks at him, her expression a mixture between awe and curiosity. He goes back into his room, closing the door a little more quietly this time. He's surprised to hear the front door close as she leaves, not saying anything else to him.

After a few moments of sitting at his desk, mulling over what'd just happened, he does something unexpected. Chuckie stands and closes his textbook, picking up his electric guitar and sitting back down on his chair.

Kira and his father had gotten him the guitar for his birthday two years ago, and the gang knew that he had it, but nobody knew exactly how much he studied the notes, and how much of his soul he poured out into the songs that he played.

Nobody in the world knows that Chuckie can play a single song, let alone know how beautifully gifted he is, not only with the guitar but with his voice. Since he started taking nasal decongestant pills his voice has gotten a lot clearer. He started to sing when he played, and he sounded amazing.

Everyone just assumed he tried to learn and eventually gave up. But he doesn't give up, not at anything, and within a year he had already mastered some of the most complex covers in the history of rock and roll. He knew the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Guns and Roses, and he even wrote some original music.

He began to play one of his favorite songs, _Tuesday's Gone _by _Lynyrd Skynyrd._

"Train roll on...on down the line..." he sang, perfectly harmonizing with the tune of the guitar and the flow of the energy in the atmosphere. "Won't you please take me far away?"

Sometimes that's all Chuckie wanted, to get away and start a new life. A life with people who won't put their lives in danger every time an opportunity presents itself. But then that's also what he loved about his life, he loved his friends, and he loved that they loved him too. They kept him on his toes.

He lost himself in the music, his body swayed back and forth slightly, his eyes closed and he felt the music radiating him.

"Tuesday's gone with the wind, my baby's gone with the wind, againnn..." He trailed off and played the solo, hitting every note. "I don't know where I'm going, I just want to be left alone," he sings. It's as if he's never felt anything stronger than the way he feels his music, like chemistry and english and history will never matter as long as he has his guitar.

Why hasn't he shared this with anybody? Because nobody's asked?

He needs to let it out, he decides, he needs to tell people how much he loves this part of him. How it is the core of his existence. So he does something completely insane once he's finished playing the song; he logs onto his schools website and signs up to play at the talent show. It asks him which category his skill is under, and he chooses instrumental/ vocal.

/

"Chuckie, you know you signed up to perform a song, not a math equation," Lil says, holding up the list of performers and the order of which they'll go on stage and their selected category of skill. Lil was the head of the entertainment department on the student council, meaning she organized most of the talent show.

_Shit, _thinks Chuckie. He'd meant not to tell anyone until he was ready, but since the talent show was tomorrow he doesn't have much of a choice now. He's terrified, and he wishes he hadn't signed up. What if he doesn't play well? What if his voice cracks? He's never played in front of another living human before, only his pet lizard named Reptar!

"I..I I, um, I know.. Uh, why?" He stutters. Things were not going well.

"Since when do you play an instrument?" Phil wonders, setting down his fork. They were all sitting at the lunch table, going over who was going to be doing what for the talent show. It turns out nobody else in their group entered except Chuckie. Well, Susie entered, as she always does.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" Tommy wonders, seeming offended. Chuckie immediately felt guilty.

"I'm sorry Tommy, I mean I've only been playing a little while and I didn't really see a reason to tell anyone. Then all of the sudden I realized how important music is to me... I thought I ought to share it." He shrugs, picking at his food. Everyone was silent.

"Well, what do you play?" Tommy breaks the silence after a solid thirty seconds.

"Guitar," Chuckie murmurs, not looking up.

"What?"

"Guitar," he says again, looking up shyly for a moment.

"Oh, well...do you need any help...I mean I could play backup? You know I play bass," Tommy offers. Chuckie looks up, intrigued. At this point everyone else had gone back to their own individual conversations.

"You'd do that?" Chuckie wonders, looking at Tommy.

"Of course, you're my best friend," he grins and takes a bite of watermelon. Chuckie smiles, shoulders easing a bit. He didn't even realize he was tensing up. The thought of not being alone on stage was a very huge weight lifted off his shoulders, and Tommy was a good bassist. "I'll come over tonight and we can practice," Tommy says, "it may be a little late but... it's better than nothing," he chuckles, standing up to throw away the rest of his food and put his tray away. Chuckie hands him his tray too, not hungry enough to finish what he was eating.

"Has anyone seen Angelica?" Phil murmurs, breaking Chuckie out of his nervous haze.

/

"Chuckie...why...why would you not tell me...tell someone? Do you even understand how much talent you have?" Tommy is at a loss for words. He's never known his best friend until this moment. All Chuckie can do is shrug and try to hide the burning in his cheeks.

He'd just played a song for Tommy, a song he wanted to play for the talent show.

Tommy hands him a tissue, which Chuckie takes, confused.

"For the...um..." Tommy gesture to Chuckie's cheeks. He hadn't even noticed he'd been crying. He looked down at his guitar, and sure enough the strings were wet. He never notices anything when he's lost in his music. Especially this particular song, his favorite song, by his favorite band. It's as if nothing else in the world is happening and he's on his own island, and island where he can finally stop worrying. The music takes over him and he's unable to control his emotions, it just reaches him on such a deep level he can't help but let a few tears slip.

"Sorry." He doesn't know if he's apologizing for crying or for not telling anyone about his talent. He was too humble to admit he could do this, anyway. He only signed up for himself.

"Don't be," Tommy hugs him. "Everyone is going to really enjoy it." Tommy looks down, wiping away a few tears himself. "Well shit...I don't know if I can play with you now! I'm not nearly as good."

"Shut up, you're playing with me, you're great."

"You're the most talented person I've ever met, Chuckie."

But even to that, Chuckie can't disagree. So he say's nothing.

They play video games until it's time for Tommy to go home, not mentioning the elephant in the room again. They practiced a bit, and eventually Tommy learned the bass of the song Chuckie had chosen, and he had to admit that his contribution only made it all the better.

"I'm glad you're the first person who got to hear me play, dude," Chuckie smiles as Tommy puts his backpack on, preparing to leave.

"Me too, thanks," Tommy grins, waving and heading out the door. Chuckie looks back down at the video game remote and smiles to himself. Yes, telling people was definitely a good choice.

/

Backstage Chuckie can hear the chatters of everyone in the audience, and he's already nervous. The only thing that calms him is Tommy reassuringly placing his hand on his shoulder as Lil announces Chuckie and Tommy's names at the podium, and that they were to play a song called _Cold Desert _by _Kings of Leon. _

There's bored clapping as Chuckie walks out onto the stage, the bright lights hurting his eyes and reflecting off his purple glasses. The clapping increases and Tommy follows him out, carrying his bass slung over his shoulder. Chuckie wears green cargo shorts and a white t-shirt with blue trim, and red converse sneakers. He has a purple tie on to match his glasses. Tommy wears dark blue jeans and a blue t-shirt, a black clip-on bow-tie completing his look.

They take their seats on the stools, Chuckie on the one next to the microphone. For a moment Chuckie thinks he should say a few words, but then he thinks the song will explain everything so much better. So he looks up at Tommy who smiles at him, nodding. Chuckie takes a deep breath, and the chattering of the crowd hushes down as they wait for something to happen.

Chuckie begins to play, whistling the tune in the opening of the song, background music playing over the speakers, the instrumentals that Tommy and Chuckie weren't playing but everything else cut out. Soon Tommy follows suit and begins to play, but all that is forgotten as Chuckie opens his mouth.

He starts to sing, and the entire audience is dead silent.

He's gone, he's no longer in the gymnasium of his school, he's back on his island. He's in euphoria, fingers effortlessly strumming the strings and sounds pour out of his soul, sounds unknown to anyone else his age. Every line of this song was something Chuckie could relate to, every word said was something he felt deep in his chest. It moved him more than any other song could, and that's why he had to play it perfect, he had to do it justice.

"Jesus don't love me, no one ever carried my load," he sings, "I'm too young to feel this old." It was those lines that affected him so deeply, those lines that changed everything for him.

Then came the guitar solo that he worked so hard to accomplish, to make right. He played from his heart, and he didn't mess up a single note. He let his eyes close, his body moving with the rhythm of the music, and he felt nothing but the song.

"He's to you... Here's to me... Oh, to us... Nobody knows, nobody see's, nobody but me." It was that part of the song that made him realize he needs to share this with people. Maybe not with the entire school, but with somebody.

Sometimes he felt like he was the only person with his eyes open. And other times he felt like was the only person who couldn't see what everyone else saw. Always on the outside looking in.

The song was over.

The audience screamed. They howled. They clapped until their hands were numb, and when Chuckie opened his eyes, all he saw were hundreds of people cheering for him. They were calling his name. He looked over to Tommy as he wiped the sweat off his brow, stunned at what he'd just done. What he'd just accomplished. All Tommy did was smile at him, proud.


	4. Angelica

**Angelica**

She doesn't know what good music is. She thinks that all that top 40 crap you hear on the radio- what's new, what's hip- is where it's at. But for some reason today when Angelica drives home she can't stand listening to anything that's playing.

Distracted, she flips through the stations two times over, eventually turning the radio off completely with an annoyed sigh. Those weren't songs she particularly disliked, but just the sound of them made her want to punch their producers in the face. _Why?_ It's as if everything these days just ticked her off.

She tried again a few moments later, deciding she needs to stop being such a bitch all the time. But no, the minute she heard what was playing the same feeling crept over her. Instead of using the numbered channels, she decided to use the dial to find a new station. She randomly tuned in to each one for a couple of seconds each, eyes pointedly on the road in front of her as she neared a familiar turn. She took it, despite it not being part of her designated route.

Country music, religious bands, rap... nothing was catching her. She gave up on a station and continued to drive, passing the empty schoolyard of her old elementary campus. So many memories had been made there...but as the days go on it's harder to remember all of them. She would be graduating high school in less than a month.

She found herself feeling surprisingly pleasant all of the sudden, it took her a moment to realize it was because of the song. She'd never heard it before but sure liked the way the sound of it made her feel. Turning it up, she passed the school in a wide circle, rethinking her ultimate destination.

She pulled into Chuckie Finster's driveway and parked her car, but stayed put listening to the song and trying to find the courage to go inside.

The last time she'd spoken to him directly she was demanding he deliver her the homework she'd expected he to for her. Granted she'd asked him several times throughout high school, she never really took such a heavy advantage over him until the second semester of her senior year, when things really started to heat up. He'd tried to push back at her demands a few times as well, but it never really startled her in such a way until the last. He looked at her with such anger in his eyes that it was if he'd torn her in two with a simple wave of his hand. She didn't know if she'd already been so fragile that the first strike of rebellion against her had shattered her resolve, or if Chuckie himself only really held the power to make her feel so guilty for something. No one had ever made her regret doing something so much, and she'd done far more awful things than force an 11th grader to do her homework. She's not prepared to deal with the ramifications of either of those options.

The song ended and she turned the car off, sitting only for a moment in the silence before taking a deep breath and opening her door. She was startled to find Chuckie leaning against the frame of his doorway, arms crossed and watching her with a peculiar look.

"How long were you watching me?" She demanded angrily as she struts up the sidewalk, trying to cover up her embarrassment. Surely he must know she's nervous now, and the thought of anyone seeing anything but her tough exterior is hard for her to handle gracefully. He doesn't say anything, he simply sniffs a bit, a reflex, and pushes his purple rimmed glasses higher up on his freckled nose. Shaking his hair a bit he coughs and finally looks away from her.

"10 seconds?" he says over his shoulder, shrugging as he enters the house. He leaves the door open behind him. She groans softly to herself in reluctance as she follows him, wishing she'd only gone home.

"What's up?" he wonders as he wanders aimlessly into the kitchen. Angelica notices how dark it is in the house, none of the curtains are opened and quietness echoed through the halls with an eery click of her heels.

"What are you guys vampires now?" she mutters more to herself than to him, taking in the mess of dishes in one side of the sink. His thick auburn eyebrows pull together as he follows her gaze.

"We were watching a movie last night. I just got home." He seems slightly irritated, as if she should know this. He says nothing more after that, looking away from her at nothing, thinking something Angelica couldn't figure out for the life of her. The silence tore away at her for a moment longer and she finally rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh.

"Look Finster I'm sorry, okay?" She blurts out a little too quickly. "I'm sorry I forced you to do my homework for so long." As she says it she still can't believe she's apologizing for such a mediocre act of bulliness. Why this, when she should be apologizing for replacing his allergy meds with pollen capsules when he was twelve? It nearly killed him!

He just looks at her as if she'd asked him a complicated math question that he has no idea how to respond to. She grows more anxious and an odd tugging sensation forms in her gut. Suddenly he breaks the silence.

"That song you were listening to," he starts, trailing off, not knowing how to finish his sentence. He looks away as he's thinking, finally just shaking his head as he scratches his ear bashfully. "Nevermind."

"What about it?"

"You like it?" he wonders. She nods timidly, wondering what he's getting at. Does he not realize how hard this apology was for her? Unsatisfied, he continues. "But did you really like it? It wasn't...weird?"

"Well I've never heard anything like it, but I think that's why I liked it." She thinks to herself further about the songs as she moves about the living room, opening the curtains and letting the bright afternoon sunlight flood the room. When she turns around he's already pulling out his notebooks from his backpack with a noticeable grin plastered across his face, surely to get started on next week's homework. She's beginning to remember why she felt justified having him do it.

"Did you happen to catch the talent show?" he wonders as he flips through the pages of his textbook, all the while not looking up at her. He sniffs again, another reflex as he's not had allergies so bad in quite some time now. She'd dropped out to avoid competition with Suzie this year. Since she'd lost the resource of Chuckies labor she'd needed the extra time to get work done.

"No, why? Did Suzie win?" Angelica wonders out loud, casually glancing around the familiar living space, empty of it's current residents except this one.

"No, actually," he murmurs halfheartedly, already engrossed in the text. It seems she's otherwise lost his attention. Sighing, she decides to leave, having done what she'd came for and him being occupied.

"I'll see ya at school, Finster," she mumbles quickly as she leaves the house, not really waiting a long enough for a response before shutting the door behind her and reaching for the keys to her car in her purse.

**At home**

Angelica supposed she felt better after apologizing, however awkward an encounter. And a trip to the Finster house with homework still to be done, and not by the redhaired lad. She can't find the same station her radio in her bedroom, but she hopes she'll hear the song again on the radio.

Two weeks passed and she'd heard nothing, forgetting about it entirely until she heard it playing, late one night. She was at the boys house, as she was going camping with them for memorial day weekend the next few days. It was a tradition for her, even when she was less fond of her two younger cousins. Chuckie hadn't started camping with them until recently. He was never able to go before because of his allergies; complicating things with nature wasn't his forte.

Looking up from her laptop she follows the sound up the stairs. She doesn't bother to knock for fear the song would end before she could find out where it's coming from.

She finds Tommy and Chuckie hunched over one of three lit up monitors, each dressed with expensive looking editing equipment. All the colors and bars and pages, it looks so complicated. The soundwaves mimicked the rhythm of the song she recognized. It sounds even better than she'd remembered. Neither of them bother to acknowledge her presence, murmuring small things to each other and pointing to certain things on the screen. Chuckie nods and Tommy continues speaking inaudibly. They're creating something.

Her first choice of words would've been _"you nerds like this song too?"_ She was so distracted by the fluidity of the instruments with the voice singing, she dozed off on the thought and let herself listen to the rest of the song without another interruption. That is until she realized she recognized the little sniff at the end of the recording.


End file.
